


Helping Hands

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 and 1, Derek being sorta nice, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Derek did something nice for Stiles, and the one time Stiles returned the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, this is a result of boredom and a need to keep things light before 3b starts.
> 
> So, thanks for reading and drop me a comment if you can.
> 
> I don't own anything remotely recognizable.

**1**

Derek had had a terrible, terrible night. Beacon Hills had been hit with an insane heat wave, and his air conditioner had decided to die, leaving his loft stifling and him unable to go back to sleep. He may be a werewolf, and cold and heat may not bother him as much as they bothered humans, but even _he_  had a limit to just how much he could take, and a room bordering on 110 degrees just so happened to be his.

After waking up for the fourth time last night-drenched in sweat and really unable to shed any more layers-he had tried fixing the air conditioner. That proved to be a very, very bad idea when the only things he accomplished were a near heart-stopping electric shock and an awful, burning hair smell lingering in the air.

Cora had told him to just hire an electrician, but he brushed her off as he left that morning, ignoring her scoffs and mutters about him being 'another stubborn man.' It wasn't that he didn't  _want_  to hire someone, it's just he didn't want to hire just anyone _._  He needed someone he could trust to not only get the job done, but to not rip him off, steal from him, or give him those weird 'so you're the guy they arrested for killing his sister and then let go only to keep you at the top of every suspect list they have because you just look that dodgy' type looks. Cora told him he was being paranoid; Derek kindly told her to fuck off.

The air conditioning felt pretty damn good on his hot skin as he walked into the grocery store, and he debated whether to go and hang out by the freezer section or not, but opted against it when he realized that would just look too weird. As much as he didn't _care_ what other people thought of him, he sort of cared what other people thought of him, and he didn't need any more people finding him strange or unusual. The old women at the park already called him 'that weird Hale boy.'

He wandered the aisles, reveling in the fact that he could actually breathe. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, but he knew he had to at least pretend to be shopping; wandering the aisles of a store just for their air conditioner just sounded a bit odd. Though, Derek doubted he was the only one, but he also doubted the majority of the other 'customers' had been in serious trouble with the law. Sometimes he really wished he had killed Scott when he had the chance.

Speaking of Scott, Derek spotted the younger werewolf and Isaac standing in the cereal aisle, both hovering behind Melissa, trying to keep from laughing as she spotted the three boxes of Frosted Flakes in the cart.

"No," she said shaking her head, taking two boxes out. "You didn't even finish the last box. I should know, because I found half the box in the couch cushions." She put the boxes back, turning back to the cart to see that Lucky Charms had replaced them. "Okay, that's it," she snapped turning to face the boys, not buying their innocent acts. "You two are officially never going shopping with me again."

Derek snorted, shaking his head, and the two younger boys' heads snapped up, eyes zeroing in on him. He froze for a moment, wondering if he could get away with using a smidgen of wolf speed to disappear around the corner, but thought better of it when he spotted a security camera. So, he awkwardly waved, and the two waved back. Melissa, having noticed their action, turned to see who they were waving at and smiled.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into them," she commented as she pushed her cart towards Derek. The two teens snorted behind her, and Derek muttered, "Doubtful."

"What are you doing here?" Isaac asked curiously.

"I was getting…" Derek trailed off, grabbing the first box of cereal he saw, again not needing them to know he was actually just taking advantage of the free air conditioner. "This." He held up the cereal, nodding his head.

"Reese's Puffs?" Melissa studied the box suspiciously, eyes narrowed. "You don't seem like the Reese's Puffs type person, Derek."

"I'm not," he answered quickly, making a point to avoid Scott's and Isaac's eyes. "It's for Cora. She's addicted to them." Actually, Cora found them disgusting, but he figured he could always pawn the box off on Stiles when he saw the human teenager again. Last Derek checked, Stiles liked this cereal, or that's what he picked up from the many, many times Stiles had rambled on about how 'awesomely, life-changing' they were.

"Just the cereal then?" Melissa couldn't keep the skepticism out of her voice even if she tried, but Derek opted to ignore it and nodded, turning to head towards the checkout line.

"Bye Derek," Isaac and Scott called and he vaguely waved.

After he had paid for the cereal, he walked out of the store and towards his car, hoping beyond hope Cora actually called an electrician. He had a feeling he wouldn't be able to show his face in the grocery store for a while.

 

* * *

**2**

"No," he replied moving away from the teen.

"Please. Please, please, please," the teen begged quickly following him around the department store. "I'll be your best friend for life. It'll be a tight fit, what with Scott and Lydia already taking that rightful place, but I shall make room for you."

"Stiles, I said no," Derek grumbled seeking out the electric razors. His had been broken by the teen in question, but Stiles still wouldn't tell him what he had been doing with it. "If you want to watch television so badly then go home."

"But, but that's like twenty blocks away. I'm gonna have to start my jeep, wait for it to warm up, sit through tons and tons of late afternoon traffic, and then, and then when I finally get home, I have to make sure my dad isn't using the TV. It's too much hassle, Derek. It'd be so much easier if you got a TV."

"I don't need one," Derek replied impatiently, watching as another employee walked by him without bothering to ask if he needed help. This place really should have those complaint cards because Derek had some well-chosen words about the people who worked there.

"Yes, we've established just how much you don't  _need_  one, but I'd really appreciate it if you got one anyway."

"No," Derek repeated and sped up a little, hoping to lose the teen.

"Then what about wifi," Stiles exclaimed running to keep up. "If you won't get cable, or a TV, or, you know, a fricking computer, can you at least get wifi so I can bring mine? And can you slow down," the teen whined, sounding a little out of breath.

With a sneer, Derek slowed to a stop, watching as Stiles raced past him. The teen stopped, nearly tripped over his feet, and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, taking in great gulps of air. It took him a while to get his breath back, but finally he straightened up and headed back towards Derek.

"Will you at least think about the wifi?" Stiles asked with wide, innocent, Bambi like eyes. Derek scoffed, feeling his resolve slip a bit, and walked away. "Was that a maybe?"

The next week, he had wifi installed after Cora bitched and moaned about needing it for school. Derek had a feeling Stiles put her up to it, but he could never prove it.

 

* * *

**3**

Sam's Coffee Pit was the only place in town that made the coffee Derek preferred. Okay, so maybe Starbucks made the coffee he wanted too, but he wasn't ever sure how to order it, so he stopped actually going into hipster central and opted to go to the smaller, no name branch across town. He could have gone to the Beacon Bean, but Boyd's brother worked there and Derek still couldn't meet his former beta's family face-to-face. Not when he was indirectly responsible for Boyd's death.

He had been sitting on an old, squashy couch, reading a thick book, reveling in the silence, when he heard the door open and a familiar voice waft in from outside. Determined not to be seen, he just wanted some peace and Cora sure as hell wasn't giving him any with her awful taste in music, Derek kept his eyes on his book, but he still listened closely.

"No Dad, I'm not getting you curly fries," the teen said, his father asking why as he headed towards the counter. "Because you heard what your doctor said. When you can keep your cholesterol under 200 for longer than a few weeks then we'll talk, but until then it is salads and fruit for you. And no, that doesn't mean caramel apples. I  _know_  you've been sneaking them." Stiles cut off his berating long enough to order one of those froffy drinks that Derek found disgusting and an insult to coffee before continuing.

"Look, I need to go. I'm staying at Scott's because I've got a history test I need to study for, and I know you want to spend time with Melissa tonight." Stiles sighed, listening to his dad's surprised inquiries about Scott's mom, running a hand through his hair. "Because I have eyes and ears. I never, ever wanted to know that Scott's mom was a screamer." He shivered, accepting his coffee, listening to his dad. "Yeah, I heard that, and you should be ashamed of yourselves; subjecting a teenager to that frivolity."

He snorted when the sheriff said, " _I'm an adult Stiles, and I don't need my son berating me on my sex life."_

With a sigh, Stiles grumbled, "Yeah, well, can't you at least save it until I've gone to college?" Stiles was quiet for a moment, his father needing to go, before nodding and whispering, "Love you, too." He then hung up, stashing his phone in his pocket, and proceeded to remove his wallet from the other.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked softly. After he paid, he left, Derek breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn't been seen. He continued his book, getting thirty more pages read, before he heard the door open again. He looked up, eyebrows rising slightly when the sheriff walked in.

"Hey Johnny," Sam greeted from the display case, placing the last of the scones inside. "You want the usual today?" The sheriff nodded, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. As Derek stood up to leave, he noticed Sam putting a few donuts in a bag.

"Should you be getting those?" Derek asked before he could stop himself, a good six inches behind the sheriff. The older man turned, eyes resting on the beta, eyebrows shooting up in a 'I'm the sheriff and I do not have to answer to you' type way. Derek was actually pretty impressed, having used the same look when he had been an alpha. He also did not like being on the receiving end of it.

"It's just," he continued, shuffling his half empty cup and book in his hands, "Stiles won't let you hear the end of it if you get those. Especially if you get caught, you know." He didn't even know why he was saying any of this, he really shouldn't care if the sheriff ate donuts, but he figured if Stiles could hold him up in a pool for two hours, then Derek could at least help out on keeping the teen's father healthy.

"And he'll know," the sheriff agreed with an eye roll. He turned back to Sam and said, "Can I just get a black coffee?"

"Sure thing, Johnny." Sam nodded, but still looked a bit disappointed at the loss of a sale, replacing the donuts. After he poured the man's coffee and the sheriff paid, the older man gave Derek a single nod before walking outside. Derek turned to look at Sam, very much aware of the small glare, and wondered if maybe Starbucks had a manual or something for ordering coffee.

 

* * *

**4**

Grave vandals had been evading the police for the last few days, leaving crude drawings and even cruder words spray painted on the headstones of a lot of the long deceased town's folk, along with a few broken statues, a lot of broken flowers, and a few bags of something unmentionable. Twice Derek had been called because of Laura's grave, and he had to put forth a lot of effort to keep from scenting the assholes, tracking them down, and ripping their heads off. He had yet to tell Cora, and most likely was never going to either.

After he had cleaned up his sister's grave again, he was about to leave when he spotted another victim. It had a few really derogatory words written over the name and the bouquet of daisies had been snapped in half. Derek very nearly left, but a part of him just couldn't walk away so with a sigh, he collected his bucket and rag, carrying both over to the grave.

He spent nearly thirty minutes on the headstone, eventually getting it back to its original, albeit a little rougher looking, condition. As he stood, about ready to head back to his car, his eyes settled on the name. Eyes widening slightly, he crouched down to get a better look at the gravestone, fairly certain he was reading the word Stilinski. He wasn't quite sure how many Stilinskis lived in town, but it made him wonder if this one was related to Stiles. Derek knew the teen's mother had died ten years ago, but he never knew her nor did he know her name.

Shrugging, having done his good deed for the day, Derek grabbed his cleaning supplies and headed out of the cemetery. However, as he dumped the bucket out in the grass, he couldn't help glancing back at the gravestone.

A few hours later, he returned with a bouquet of daisies, figuring it wouldn't hurt to make the grave look as it had before, just in case she did happen to be Stiles' mother. Derek had a gut feeling Stiles would have done the same for him, quite possibly for anyone (though that just might be a Scott thing), so the beta decided to return the favor. It was the least he could do after all.

 

* * *

**5**

Apparently it was the party of the century. Or, that's what Stiles and Lydia were blabbing about at the last pack meeting. Scott had given up after ten minutes, knowing he couldn't get a word in edgewise with those two, and opted to reschedule the meeting for after the party, allowing Isaac and Allison to join in the conversation. Cora, who hadn't exactly decided if she wanted to be a part of Scott's pack, disappeared upstairs while Derek retreated to the kitchen so he wouldn't be dragged into the frivolous teenage discussion about this so called 'amazeballs' party.

When Saturday rolled around, Derek had plans to stay inside, finish _David Copperfield_ , and otherwise be, as Stiles said, 'boring,' but he ended up getting a very incoherent, very short phone call from Stiles. Derek very nearly ignored it, but with a sigh he knew he couldn't, so he stood up, left his booksitting on the couch, and walked out with a quick 'I'll be right back' for Cora's sake.

He drove to the party, following the scent of booze, hormones, and bad decisions, and ended up having to park his car a good two blocks away. He walked the rest of the way, feeling like a mega creeper the moment he stepped into the house.

Ignoring the stares he was getting, Derek maneuvered through the crowd, trying and failing to scent out anyone familiar. After twenty minutes of searching, wanting to kill Stiles for the fucking apparent prank, Derek turned to leave, but froze when he spotted the guy in question, sitting on the stairs, slumped against the wall.

With a sigh, Derek moved towards the teen, still ignoring the stares, stopping in front of him. He crouched to Stiles' level, lightly tapping his face, noticing the phone held slack in his hand. The teen groaned, his eyelids fluttering slightly, but otherwise stayed out.

"Are you a friend of his?" a voice asked from behind Derek. Without turning around, the beta nodded. "Thank God! I was starting to think he'd have to sleep there, and I know my parents would freak if they found another boy in my house."

"Where are the people he came with?" Derek questioned slowly, studying Stiles closely. When he didn't receive an answer, Derek merely rolled his eyes, pocketed Stiles' cell, and gathered the unconscious teen into his arms. He carried Stiles out, glaring at the gaggle of teens looking at him opened mouth, and started down the street, knowing Scott and Isaac would be completely sober and could get Allison and Lydia home safely.

Once he was at his car, having stuffed Stiles' rubbery limbs into the passenger seat, Derek made a quick, anonymous call to the sheriff's department, before getting into the driver side and starting his car. It'd serve the little bastards right for throwing a party.

He drove towards Stiles' place, smirking as a cop car drove past him, glancing over at his passenger. Stiles was slumped against the window, breath fogging up the glass. A part of Derek wondered why Stiles couldn't be asleep most of the time; at least he was quiet.

Derek found the Stilinski driveway empty when he pulled up to the house, figuring Stiles had either left his jeep at the party or parked it in the garage and knowing the teen's father had answered his anonymous tip. He turned his vehicle off, got out, and walked around to the other side. He opened the passenger side door, catching Stiles before he could tumble out, and gathered the limp limbed teenager in his arms again.

He carried the teen towards the house, using the spare key Stiles kept around his neck to unlock the door. Once inside, Derek carted the boy upstairs, hip checking Stiles' bedroom door open. He set the teen on his bed, made quick work removing his shoes, upended the human's trash bin, scattering garbage onto the floor so he could set the empty can near the teen's head, and started towards the door.

Before he could leave however, he heard Stiles softly say, "Thanks buddy." Snorting, Derek closed the door behind him.

 

* * *

**+1**

It didn't happen very often, respectable woman usually went the other way when Derek walked towards them, but sometimes someone would approach him, most likely really, really drunk or new to town or psychotic (that happened far too many times for Derek's liking), and try to flirt with him. He usually scowled until they went away, or once steered the girl towards someone much better looking, far more sociable, and definitely ten times drunker than the girl.

He's sitting at a table in the library, pouring over  _Great Expectations_ , when he smelled her standing over him. He felt her eyes lingering on him, could practically smell the hormones secreting from her. He didn't react to her, keeping his eyes locked on the book, but she didn't get the hint and continued to hover over him.

"Um, hi," she started sitting down across from him. He still didn't react, and again she didn't get the hint. "So, my friend over there dared me to come talk to you. I told her it was stupid, but I just…" she trailed off, and Derek held back an eye roll, turning the page. "So, I'm Niki. What's your name?" When Derek refused to acknowledge her again, she scoffed and said, "You don't have to be an asshole."

"He's not being an asshole," a familiar voice retorted. "He's just not interested in you." Derek felt Stiles kiss his hair and say, "Sorry I'm late babe. Traffic was a nightmare."

"Oh, you're into guys?" The girl no doubt looked between him and Stiles before sighing and getting up. "You could have just  _said_  something." She then stalked away, no doubt going to gossip about Derek's assholeness and have the whole 'why do all the hot guys have to be taken or gay' talk with her friend.

"So, you're welcome," Stiles stated moving to sit across from Derek. "Sorry about the hair kiss by the way. I had a feeling you would have stabbed me in the face if I tried the lips."

Derek snorted, closing his book. "When'd you get back into town?" he questioned curiously, trying to be polite, figuring it's the least he could do. His method may have been unorthodox, but Stiles managed to get the girl to go away so Derek couldn't fault him for that.

"Last night," Stiles replied leaning back in his chair, the front two legs leaving the floor. "Stanford is killing me, dude. I mean, the classes are awesome and the teachers are incredible, but the coffee is terrible, I can't find a decent pizza place, and my roommate steals my clothes."

Derek nodded, silently wondering who would want to steal Stiles' wardrobe. As Stiles began complaining about the coffee shop close to his dorm, Derek heard himself ask, "Do you wanna get coffee?"

"What?" The chair's legs smacked back onto the floor, Stiles sitting up straighter to meet Derek's eyes. "Are you asking me to get coffee with you?"

"Forget it," Derek grumbled getting to his feet, tucking his book under his arm.

"I'm only kidding," Stiles replied with a goofy grin. "Sure, let's get coffee. I can tell you all about my classes and this one dude who gives Greenburg a good name. Oh and about this new occult section that opened in the library." Stiles continued to talk all the way out of the library, but Derek really couldn't find it in him to be annoyed. In fact, if he were being honest, he sort of missed the chatter, but he'd deny it if anyone ever found out.


End file.
